


Paint Me A Birmingham

by Cyndassa (KadeWriting)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ghosts, M/M, Reunification after death, Songfic, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KadeWriting/pseuds/Cyndassa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can't live without Severus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Me A Birmingham

**Author's Note:**

> A re-write of an old fic.

The morning dawned bright, birds singing merrily as they went about their day. Harry had grown to hate those birds, their ever-present chirping as he made the trek from the remains of Hogwarts to the nearby graveyard; he would have hexed them into oblivion, if he'd had the energy to do so, but he was so tired now.

_He was sitting there, his brush in hand_  
_Painting' waves as they danced, upon the sand_  
_With every stroke, he brought to life_  
_The deep blue of the ocean, against the morning'sky_  
_I asked him if he only painted ocean scenes_  
_He said for twenty dollars, I'll paint you anything_

He walked slowly through the rows of granite and marble, one hand running lovingly over the stones. Down this row would be Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Beyond them, Cho, Seamus, and Lee. Down the next row was Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall, Mad-Eye, Lupin. He took a deep breath and turned away, down a third row. "Traitor's Row", some liked to call it. The final resting place of those who were lost trying to do right in their last days. Draco laid here, next to his parents, and too many other good people who were led astray. He walked quietly to the end of the row, hands beginning to shake as he drew closer to his destination.

_Could you Paint Me A Birmingham_  
_Make it look just the way I planned_  
_A little house on the edge of town_  
_Porch going' all the way around_  
_Put her there in the front yard swing_  
_Cotton dress make it, early spring_  
_For a while she'll be, mine again_  
_If you can Paint Me A Birmingham_

"Heya Sev." He greeted the black marble amiably, as if it were just another friend on just another day, and sat down on the grass, then leaned against the headstone.

"It's warmer today," he looked up at the sky, at the puffy white clouds drifting lazily across the sky. "It'll be well into summer soon." He didn't bother to try to hold back the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. "They finally fixed the greenhouses. The plants are in a riot. Literally. One student nearly lost a finger." He laughed bitterly. "I could just hear your voice telling them to not be such an idiot around such dangerous flora."

_Could you Paint Me A Birmingham_  
_Make it look just the way I planned_  
_A little house on the edge of town_  
_Porch going' all the way around_  
_Put her there in the front yard swing_  
_Cotton dress make it, early spring_  
_For a while she'll be, mine again_  
_If you can Paint Me A Birmingham_

"I miss you," he whimpered, the tears starting to come faster, one hand going out to trace the letters of the inscription. _Severus Snape, teacher, headmaster, potions master. We will never forget the sacrifices you made in the name of The Light._ It had taken them so long to move past their differences, to finally see their similarities. Harry had found a steadfast companion in the older man in the last months of the war, until that companionship went deeper. Each had found the person they were looking for in the other, someone they could rage against when the world was at its darkest, someone they could hold on to when the ground fell out from under them. His friends had given him the side-eye when they first found out about them, Hermione questioning the legality of a teacher/student relationship while Ron just questioned his sanity, but Harry had argued and cajoled and finally forced them to understand. In the end, they chose to look the other way. They didn't need to know the details of the relationship, that it had never progressed past tight hugs and comforting kisses, whispered promises of a better, brighter future, full of love, honor, and commitment.

_He looked at me, with knowing eyes_  
_Then took a canvas from a bag there by his side_  
_Picked up a brush, and said to me_  
_Son just where in this picture would you like to be_  
_And I said if there's any way you can_  
_Could you paint me back into her arms again?_

Harry reached into a pocket in his robes and pulled out a vial, looking at its contents. "I finally finished it," he announced quietly. "Took me forever. I never was any good in your class." He uncorked it and held it to his cheek, collecting the tears that had streaked his skin. "Don't roll your eyes at me in that tone of voice," he chided the air quietly, as he watched the potion react to the final ingredient, knowing the facial expression that would have crossed his love's face. "I can't help it that the recipe calls for heartbroken tears. Honestly, who makes a potion like that, anyway?"

When the potion was done hissing and swirling, having settled into a clear blue, he knocked it back quickly, as if it were nothing more than a shot of firewhiskey. He shuddered and dropped the vial, a deep sense of lethargy sweeping over him, faster and deeper than any sleeping draught could have offered.

_Could you Paint Me A Birmingham_  
_Make it look just the way I planned_  
_A little house on the edge of town_  
_Porch going' all the way around_  
_Put her there in the front yard swing_  
_Cotton dress make it, early spring_  
_For a while she'll be, mine again_  
_If you can Paint Me A Birmingham_

He laid down on the grass, curling up on his side, imagining strong arms around him, shielding him from the worst of the world, the way they had so many times before. "That's faster than I expected," he murmured, closing his eyes. "You always did know the best poisons."

_Paint Me A Birmingham_  
_Make it look just the way I planned_  
_A little house on the edge of town_  
_Porch going' all the way around_  
_Put her there in the front yard swing_  
_Cotton dress make it, early spring_  
_For a while she'll be, mine again_  
_If you can Paint Me A Birmingham_

The morning dawned bright, birds singing merrily as they went about their day.

"You're a fool idiot. I can't believe you did that."

Harry opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings blearily. He finally focused on the form of a tall, lanky man, arms folded across heavy robes. He smiled in relief even as he was pinned with a piercing glare.

"It worked." Harry got to his feet, happier than he had been in months.

"Of course it worked. That was one of my personal developments." The spirit of the potions master sniffed haughtily. When Harry made no move to approach, he sighed and spread his arms. "Well come on then."

Harry yelped in excitement and rushed the other man, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into his chest.

"I missed you Sev."

"I missed you too Harry."

"You promised that we'd be together."

"I know."

"I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't… I just couldn't…" 

"You don't have to. Never again."

_Oh paint me a Birmingham_


End file.
